


On a Day in Summer

by Melinaa



Series: All the Seasons [4]
Category: Layton Kyouju Series | Professor Layton Series
Genre: Again, F/M, Summer, but it's really fluffy at the same time, happy but with a sad ending, that one has a really sad turn to it, why am I like this???
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-02-13
Updated: 2019-02-13
Packaged: 2019-10-27 16:42:33
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,120
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17770457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Melinaa/pseuds/Melinaa
Summary: “Well, I can’t even read music, I have to admit,” you whispered, scratching the back of your head. You declined my offer to teach you politely. “Oh no, you just keep playing. I like listening to you. You play wonderfully.” Quickly, you had found your favourite piece and I made it my duty to play it for you every day. I loved to see your eyes sparkling.We went on long walks. I don’t really remember when we had last had the time to do so.And had I ever mentioned that I was just as bad at cooking as you were? Well, we found out this very evening. The kitchen and basically the entire house smelled burnt afterwards and we were sitting on the patio laughing like children.“At this rate, we will never be able to move in together. We would starve!” you laughed at some point and held your stomach. It got me thinking. Had you thought about moving in together as well?This summer was one of the best I had had in a very long time.





	On a Day in Summer

On a Day in Summer 

 

It felt odd not getting to see you every day once the end of term had come. The university was mostly dead since only very few people showed up here during vacation. For exams, for example. Of course, I had to meet you of all people when I showed up on this very day in August. Not that I minded.

I had met up with Doctor Schrader to talk about the assignment I had worked on during the summer when we had run into you and your classmates, relieved laughter surrounding you. Your exam must have just ended, it had seemed like to me. I heard all of them talking about thermodynamics and discussing certain questions. You were, as usual, the first I spotted in the crowd.

Your relieved laugh lightened my day, and I couldn’t take my eyes off you while Doctor Schrader and I waited for all the students to pass. All of them greeted politely. You did as well. And then, you smiled at me before you were gone once more, talking about getting a piece of cake to celebrate the taken exam.

I must have grown about five inches judged by the way Doctor Schrader had looked at me. He had known immediately, and there was no way in telling him otherwise.

Somehow, you were always surrounded by a certain light that made everything brighter. Maybe it was just me who felt so. I never told anyone because I found it so embarrassing, not even Clark. Though he was so in love with Brenda he might have understood me. Yet…

 

The second summer, I didn’t have to say anything to him, he could immediately see how much I loved you. Not just him, everyone. I didn’t find it embarrassing anymore.

It wasn’t just me, everyone loved you. You got along with my friends almost immediately. Almost better than I, I told you, but you simply laughed and smiled at me, _No, Hershel, I don’t think so_.

They tried their best to set us up and to this day, I’m glad you didn’t seem to notice their efforts. I don’t have to say that this was the most embarrassing summer of my entire life.

(I couldn’t know that you had, indeed, noticed their efforts and found it immensely amusing. But without that, you said, you might not have kissed me on that day in autumn.)

 

I don’t even have to get started when it came to my parents. They had invited us over the next summer, and you wouldn’t let me say no. I usually only visited them during Christmas and Eastern and, of course, during their birthdays but I spent most of my time in London because of my studies. You did so as well but you were thrilled for the trip. We’d only been there twice before, and you had loved the silence outside of London.

I had never seen you so relaxed before. My mother invited you to cook with her but after a few disastrous (I’m dearly sorry, my love, but I can’t describe it any other way) attempts she sent you to go fishing with my father, laughing. You had felt so bad and tried to make it up to her every day by setting the table and helping with washing the dishes. But she only smiled at you motherly and told you that it was okay. Still, you tried, and I couldn’t stop smiling. You were too good for me.

You went fishing with my father and you couldn’t stop grinning when he told us vividly over dinner what a good company you made and that he barely ever caught so many fishes when he was out with Douglas. I hadn’t known that you had a knack of fishing. You apparently didn’t, either, but you welcomed it. At least, you didn’t think about the cooking-thing anymore.

And I have to say, I am so grateful that you convinced me to accept their offer. These three weeks were the best I’d had in a long time. I was so relieved that you got along with my parents so well. I wanted to teach you how to play the piano, but you preferred sitting next to me and listening. When I asked you for the reason, you laughed nervously. “Well, I can’t even read music, I have to admit,” you whispered, scratching the back of your head. You declined my offer to teach you politely. “Oh no, you just keep playing. I like listening to you. You play wonderfully.” Quickly, you had found your favourite piece and I made it my duty to play it for you every day. I loved to see your eyes sparkling.

We went on long walks. I don’t really remember when we had last had the time to do so. You had done your bachelor’s degree last semester and hadn’t been able to get out often due to studying. It had been as stressful for you as for me last year, but you told me that you looked forward to your master’s degree and even your doctor’s degree but feared it at the same time. I took your hand then and told you not to worry. I admired you for your seemingly endless ambition. I didn’t doubt you would achieve your doctor’s degree one day, probably sooner than you thought. You were so smart and clever, you’d probably sail through. You, in return kissed me and grinned, “And I have you bringing me coffee whenever I’m not looking.”

That too.

My parents were truly sorry for when they had to leave for a night, leaving us to look after the house. They were probably more concerned for their house though. Had I ever mentioned that I was just as bad at cooking as you were? Well, we found out this very evening. The kitchen and basically the entire house smelled burnt afterwards and we were sitting on the patio laughing like children. Would it be like this if we ever moved in together? Not that I would ask you anytime soon. I felt like we hadn’t been together long enough to present you with such a question. So, I just kept sitting beside you and laughed until tears escaped my eyes and you were lying in the grass, short for breath.

“At this rate, we will never be able to move in together. We would starve!” you laughed at some point and held your stomach. It got me thinking. Had you thought about moving in together as well? I didn’t dare ask. Not now, and not later.

You inspected my room when we decided to go to bed after having been to a restaurant to eat and endless hours of chess (You were incredibly good and somehow managed to beat me almost every time). You did that every night thought I was sure you had to know every detail by heart now. When I came from the bathroom you were sitting on my bed, cross-legged with a photography in your hands. You looked up when I entered. “Were these your friends when you went to high school? Nice hair, by the way,” you smirked at me and put the photography down after I had gotten into bed as well.

“Don’t mock me about my hair. Randall already did quite a good job at that,” I moaned. I knew perfectly well that, looking back now, my hair had been horrible, and I could understand my mother who had constantly told me to cut it and would have loved to do so herself.

“Randall. Let me guess, it’s the boy with the brown hair in the picture?”

“No, that’s Henry. Randall is the red-haired boy. The girl is Angela and the other boy is Alphonse,” I answered your unspoken question hoping that this would be it. I didn’t want to talk about them right now. I could already feel the long-hidden memories beginning to stir in the back of my head. I hadn’t told you yet what had happened to Randall. It wasn’t exactly something you told someone on your first date.

“I would love to meet them one day. I’m sure they’re just as nice as Brenda and Clark,” you turned your head to lay it onto my chest, as you did every night, and smiled at me.

I laid an arm around you and pulled you close. “I don’t think that’s possible, but yes. They were just as nice.”

“Were? What happened?” You propped yourself up on your elbow to get a better look at me. You wouldn’t let this go, I knew it.

“We… fought. Before my parents and I moved back to London. Haven’t spoken ever since,” I answered shortly looking at the ceiling.

“Oh. Why don’t you try to get in touch with them again? I’m sure they would love to hear from you.”

“I don’t think that this would be a good idea,” I decided and with that it was a done deal. For now. I knew you wouldn’t let me get away this easily. You were persistent and patient. Two things you needed to be when you were a researcher, and these things seemed to come naturally with you.

Eventually, I told you hours later. I knew you weren’t asleep yet. You were too quiet. You would normally toss yourself back and forth until you’d finally fall asleep. I told you about Angela and Henry and Alphonse, the time as St. Vernon’s, how happy we were. I told you about Randall.   
It was quite hard to find my voice again since I hadn’t talked about him in so long. I told you about the last night, the expedition in the ruins, about his plans. I told you the reason I studied archaeology, why I loved puzzles so much. I told you that I blamed myself for Randall’s death, for Angela’s grief, that I had promised to look after him and that I had failed. I told you everything.

You didn’t interrupt me once. And when I had gone silent, you simply embraced me. I loved you even more for the fact that you let me cry and didn’t say anything until I had fallen asleep.

When I woke up, I felt good. And warm. Too warm. Your arms were still wrapped around me tightly and I had absolutely no idea how late it was. The sun already peeked out, and I could turn my head enough to watch it rise through the window. It must still be early. As carefully as possible I tried to untangle myself from you, but you tightened your grip. “Don’t,” you suddenly murmured. “I just fell asleep. Don’t make me wake.”

“Why didn’t you sleep?” I whispered; I really wanted to let you sleep but I couldn’t prevent myself from asking.

“You got me thinking. Now quiet. A gentleman wouldn’t wake me up,” you yawned, your voice heavy with sleep. I softly kissed your forehead and laid my arms around you as usual. You automatically came closer.

“I’m sorry,” I apologised and rubbed your back. I felt bad for taking away your sleep. “I’ll make it up to you. Breakfast in bed?”

“Don’t apologise. It’s not your fault.” You looked up then, blinking. “Nothing is your fault, you hear me? I don’t know them but I’m sure none of them blame you for what happened to Randall. It was an accident. Angela might have been angry with you, but I think she was mostly sad. You should try to get in touch with her and the others again. It might do you good, don’t you think so?”

I couldn’t answer anything, I could simply stare at you. I hadn’t reckoned with you talking so much this early. At some point you averted your eyes and started chewing on your lower lip. “I’m sorry, I just… it’s not your fault. That’s the important thing and I want you to know that.”

I pulled you close. “Thank you,” I whispered and smiled, truly smiled, and kissed the top of your head.

You laughed quietly and snuggled into me. “Not for that. But I’d love to come back to breakfast in bed later,” you replied teasingly and yawned.

“Every day if you wish so,” I answered before you fell asleep once more. I held you close and swore to myself that I wouldn’t let go, that I would protect you, that I would make sure that you wouldn’t have to face the same fate as Randall did.

 

And believe me, I didn’t plan on letting you go. Not any time soon.

But sometimes, it simply can’t be helped. And then, it’s suddenly not that simple anymore.

**Author's Note:**

> Happy early Valentine's Day and 12th Anniversary of the Professor Layton series!   
> I wrote this piece, as well as the other pieces of this series (except "On a Day in Autumn") for the celebration of the anniversary for the PL Amino but I thought I'd post it here as well.   
> I hope you like it! I’m truly sorry for every kind of mistakes that might occur. 
> 
> Melina


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